Wolf

Part 25: Jackson & Emily

Jackson turned back to Emily as she stood in the lobby of the inn. Despite her attempt to brush him off, he couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right. "Emily, I need to talk to you," he said, his voice urgent.

Emily's eyes narrowed, a flicker of irritation crossing her features. "Jackson, I told you I'm fine," she replied, her tone sharp. "I don't have time for this."

But Jackson wasn't about to let it go. He knew there was more to the story, and he needed answers. "It's important, Emily," he insisted, his voice softening. "Please, just hear me out."

With a heavy sigh, Emily relented, nodding toward the den at the back of the inn. "Fine," she said tersely. "But make it quick."

As they stepped into the dimly lit den, Jackson couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia. It was here that he and Emily had shared countless memories, their laughter filling the room as they whiled away the hours together.

But now, as they faced each other in the silence of the room, the weight of their past hung heavy between them. "Are you really okay, Emily?" Jackson asked, his voice laced with concern. "I heard what happened with that wolf, and I just need to know..."

Emily cut him off with a sharp gesture, her anger bubbling to the surface. "Of course, I'm not okay, Jackson!" she snapped, her voice echoing off the walls of the den. "I was attacked by a freaking wolf!"

As Jackson recoiled at her outburst, Emily pressed on, her frustration boiling over. "And as for Lucas," she continued, her tone dripping with venom, "we just happened to bump into each other. It's not like I planned it."

Jackson's brow furrowed in confusion, but before he could respond, Emily leveled him with a piercing glare. "And you have no right to be jealous," she spat, her voice dripping with contempt. "Not after what you did with Denise Westbrook."

The words hung in the air between them, a bitter reminder of the betrayal that had torn them apart. And as Jackson struggled to find a response, he couldn't help but feel the weight of his own guilt bearing down on him like a leaden cloak.